The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

Chapter 45: Adaptation

It wasn’t just the smirk and the dismissive attitude that made me hate the demon. There was something… deeper to the sensation.

In a way, he even seemed familiar. There was no reason for me to feel that way. I was certain that I had never seen the stupid demon with his stupid, perfect gray skin and stupid curly horns that twisted almost like a ram’s in a full circle, before the pointy ends came to rest just inches above his stupid forehead. There was no reason for the sharp, perfect lines of his face to evoke a sense of disgust in me. Or for my sudden urge to yank out his perfect silver hair.

Someone higher up had appointed this demon as my lord and master for the foreseeable future. Logic told me this should cause mild annoyance, at most. Yet I was seething, nearly as angry as I had been at Bronwynn’s death.

And I had no idea why.

Glaustro sent me a startled look, so I knew all the demons were picking up on my sudden rush of rage and bewilderment. Of course, this included my new commander. His cocky smirk only grew as he leveled stormy blue eyes directly at me. I couldn’t begin to guess what he was savoring more: my anger or my confusion.

How do I know him? I’ve never seen him before. Not even back at the training camp. I remember all my minders and all the demons that came to evaluate us, so he was definitely not one of them. And yet...

The familiarity I felt was bone-deep. That much I was sure of, just like I knew this familiarity was the true source of my new hatred. But that didn’t help me understand it, much less fight it.

I was seriously getting tired of being jerked around by emotions. It had happened a lot recently. First the desperate need and fear when faced with the spatial cracks, then the rage and depression, and now whatever the hell it was that rose up against this new demon.

I was so distracted by the emotions and my reactions to them that I almost overlooked my own thoughts. When they finally clicked, however, I froze. The sudden anger and resulting confusion didn’t disappear, but they dimmed, fading behind a spiral of doubt and worry that swallowed me whole.

Until that moment, I didn’t realize just how blurry the boundary between me and Hayden had become.

No longer were his memories something I didn’t perceive as my own. No longer could I pretend that his thoughts, ambitions, and feelings weren’t influencing me. Hell, I could even remember more, like some hidden bits of his shattered memories were swimming up to the surface of my mind, knowing I was more open to them. Small, treasured moments of peace and solitude when I — when Hayden — managed to meet all the demands of his trainers or excel in classes. A few idle musings on what Hayden wanted, beyond simple glory and acceptance into the legion.

And it was all so painfully mundane.

Go figure that a lonely boy, with not a single family member or friend in sight, desperately wanted nothing more than someone he could trust and confide in.

"Well, you’ve certainly got an interesting medley of useless layabouts here, sergeant. Precisely what I wanted when I got this posting, to be sure." The new demon’s voice was so thick with irony that Glaustro actually growled at him. "Well, needs must, I suppose. I’ll make the most of what I am given."

"I don’t understand why they put someone from logistics in charge of troops," Glaustro fired back, arms crossed against his chest. "This is not the right place for a paper pusher. Would be a horrible shame if the locals managed to catch you in one of their ambushes."

The other demon’s eyes flashed with anger, but the emotion faded quickly.

"Oh, I assure you, sergeant, I am not useless in a fight. Besides, with our timetable shifting and most engagements moving to demon-only designations, the legion needs someone knowledgeable on the ground to search for any unique treasures or opportunities this world might possess. It would be a shame if we decided to purge it without proper investigation and missed out on something."

"My fellow officers and I were perfectly capable of performing the job ourselves, as our reports thus far indicate," Glaustro ground out, but there was a resigned quality to his voice I didn’t like. "And do not even try to sound put-upon. It was your department that filed the demand to make this happen. In fact, I know you requested this posting personally."

The demon waved a dismissive hand at Glaustro, his eyes roving over us mortals.

"Yes, well, just because something must be done does not mean I have to enjoy it. It is merely my duty to assist lesser minds with tasks they are not suited to. Besides, I would be careful in your bragging about successful surveys, sergeant. You only took up your post recently, and I do remember your predecessor engaged in some… illicit harvesting of unsanctioned souls. Or am I wrong?"

Glaustro did not answer. He turned away from the demon, addressing his former mortal troops. "I believe we will see each other again, soldiers. Until then, I will leave you in the… competent… hands of officer Mercutio. You will have to ask him yourselves what his actual rank is because I never found mention of it anywhere. Odd, that."

Glaustro delivered those last words casually, but I heard snickering from other demons gathered at the square. I also caught the glare Mercutio sent him, filled with venomous hatred.

And Glaustro wasn’t done just yet, though. Instead of heading off with his troops, he walked straight towards me.

I straightened at his approach, feeling a medley of emotions I never expected to associate with the man. My initial resentment had vanished long ago, replaced by fondness and gratitude for the rewards and advice he had given me.

He wasn’t my friend. He wasn’t even my ally, really. Yet, I liked the grumpy commander all the same.

"Fine work that day, soldier," Glaustro boomed, ensuring all would hear as he clapped me on the shoulder and shook my hand roughly. "We owe our survival to you, at least in part. We could have weathered the trap, but it would have been a costly thing. Several other troops were wiped out entirely. I look forward to the day we meet again."

The sincerity of his words was so shocking, I almost missed the moment when he used the handshake as an excuse to push something into my hand.

I balled up my fist and saluted the sergeant with my other hand, not trusting my voice to say anything. He gave me one final nod, then walked away.

Mercutio tracked the progress of his fellow demons keenly as they retreated to the teleportation obelisk and used it to conjure a portal. Tension seeped out of his frame when they vanished, leaving him with only his much weaker charges.

"Well. That unpleasantness is done. Military types. So… uncouth," the demon grumbled.

For all his bluster, I suddenly had the feeling that if Mercutio had pushed too far, Glaustro could have smeared him all over the square until there was nothing left of the logistics officer.

Once more, the demon directed his full attention to us, this time with unconcealed malice. "The lucky mortals, one of the few groups who survived the devastation from the locals. Such an embarrassment, that. A world this weak, actually killing demons?" Mercutio shook his head in mock regret, then swept his hand towards one side of the square. "All of you, form up there. You will wait until the rest of your fellows are funneled here."

We obeyed, because what else could we do? Even if we chafed under his manner of addressing us, it wasn’t like we could rise up and murder him. At best, we all would all die. At worst, we would succeed, and they would send someone far less pleasant with actual orders to torment and punish us.

But as we continued to stand in the square, I began to wonder if those were, in fact, the exact orders Mercutio had received. We languished there for hours, backs straight and attention firmly fixed forward. The few times someone slipped, the demon appeared from the café like a wraith and started berating the whole troop.

I received my summons after eating breakfast, which was a good thing. Standing in the square on an empty stomach would have been even more unpleasant. Less good, this meant we were out in the sun at the peak of the day’s heat, surrounded by beautiful yet highly reflective stone that produced an oven-like effect.

I could somewhat alleviate the sun’s negative effects, thanks to my body strengthening and my increased mana capacity. Most of the other mortals were not as lucky, but there was nothing I could do for them, even if I wanted to. In fact, seeing as there was nothing else to do, I allowed myself to sink deep into my own mana.

Now that my mind was clearer, I could sort through my recent memories enough to determine that I had spent only two days at the Apple Infernal. In that time, despite all the emotions, I somehow had the wherewithal to lie around but also absorb mana crystals.

I remembered that I had entered the Apple Infernal with four layers around my mana core, one layer away from advancing to basic mage. I also remembered that when I first started absorbing mana crystals, back at the absorption station, I had advanced by a layer each day. During this two-day ’break,’ however, I had absorbed a total of four crystals with no breakthrough forthcoming.

It was an odd sensation. Mana had piled up around my core, some of it clinging to the core while the rest spiraled around the core in a vaporous state. But the core itself remained stagnant, unmoving, like it was waiting for something.

In my dazed state during those two days, I didn’t bother trying to figure out what that ’something’ was. I just kept shoving more mana at the problem. Now that I had my wits about me? Well, I wasn’t suddenly enlightened, but I could tell I had enough mana to advance.

In fact, I knew I had enough to advance after the first day’s stay at the Apple Infernal. But for some reason, I hadn’t done so. Which naturally suggested there was more to the process than just accumulation.

It was time to ask Clarinette.

Carefully, I unlocked her memories and combed through them. They were still as clear as the first day I stole them, and it didn’t take much time at all to find the moment when she finally advanced from an apprentice to a full mage.

It was a momentous occasion for her, even if the memory was marred by the fact that nothing ultimately changed, and that her advancement wasn’t the miracle cure she had prayed it would be.

On that day, just like she always had to do, she kept her core spinning desperately, grasping for every drag of mana she could attract and shove through her bloodstream. She spun it faster and faster, counting on the spin and subtle manipulation to stop her core from bleeding more mana than she could supply.

And then, finally, the moment came, and her power rocketed past what everyone kept telling her she would be able to wield.

I compared her core to my own, and I had to admit I was found lacking. Where she had to manipulate her mana with all her will and ability, it came easily to me. So easily, in fact, that I had grown lazy in my pursuit of magic.

I let some of Clarinette bleed through into me. I fed on her desires and desperation to exceed everyone’s expectations. And, borne on the wings of her obsession, I made my core spin.

It happened slowly at first. My core was content to sit there and act as the fulcrum of all my mana, but I prodded and insisted until it had to move according to my demands. With every rotation of the core, its speed picked up. Faster and faster it spun, until even the mana that was loitering around it and refusing to condense started pressing in. The sensation was almost painful, like I was trying to shove far too much mana into a small container.

I persisted.

If a girl with such a damaged core could succeed, why couldn’t I? I had all the blessings I needed: I was born on a world superior to hers, I was raised learning how to manipulate mana, and I had resources she could never even dream of.

Even as I worked, I had enough presence of mind to think about magic itself. Once more, I felt disgusted at how much I had let the shine of magic wear off.

I had tried to cling to it once before, but other concerns had whisked away any mortification I felt at the loss of my childhood aspirations. Now, I clung to them more tightly than ever. I clung to that desire for magic I had when reading books, when rifling through stories of heroes and dragons and dark sorcerer kings.

I willed it all into my core, my awe and my determination both. And instead of breaking under the weight of mana and my expectation, it adapted.

My core briefly swelled, then collapsed inward with a ripple that was felt in the ambient mana all around me. The core size deflated as its density shot upwards, and its glow intensified. There was a qualitative change in its layers, a force that was absent before. My new brand of mana swept through my body, uplifting it, and my eyes shot open.

They landed, by pure coincidence, on the angry, stormy eyes of my new commanding officer. The man was glaring at me like I owed him money, and when I smiled, he spun around and stormed off into his café hidey-hole.

I wasn’t worried.

Just like my core, I could adapt. When Wilhelmina put me under pressure, I adapted. When Glaustro came along, I adapted. Mercutio was just the latest challenge I had to face.

I was damned if I was going to let him crack me from the start.